Chapter 1 #2
My oldest friend is a damn good man, and even though I give him a lot of shit for crushing on my sister—and eventually having a relationship with her—I’m so fucking proud of him and honored to have him as part of the family in this regard.
“So, The Lizard?” I ask, clearly teasing.
Quinn laughs. “Sorry, friend. I’m passing tonight.”
“Yeah, I figured,” I mumble.
“Have a good time.”
“I’ll probably just hang here. I’ve got Wyatt’s transmission torn apart and need to finish that up,” I tell him, glancing out the small window above the sink when I catch movement outside.
I’m not sure who’s outside at the neighbor’s place, but now isn’t the time for me to go introduce myself.
That can wait until I’m showered and they’re not busy moving into a new place when it’s already dark outside.
Quinn says something to Charli, and I know our time is up.
“I’ll let you go, man. I’ll try to stop by this weekend and snuggle my niece.”
“Sounds good,” he replies. “Have a good one.”
“You too. Kiss my Junie for me.”
He chuckles. “Will do. Bye.”
I’m about to slip my phone back into my pocket but stop, pulling up one of my frequent numbers. “Mario’s, how may I help you?”
“Hey, Taylor, it’s Cam Miller.”
“Hi, Cam,” the polite young employee says. “The usual?”
“Yes, please,” I reply. I order at least one, usually two nights a week, and all the employees know my order.
“Pick up or delivery?”
“Delivery, please.”
“Okay, looks like it’s going to be about forty-five minutes,” she replies.
“No problem.”
“Card on file?” she asks, referring to my credit card that’s saved in the system for my regular purchases.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Okay, I got it taken care of. See you in about forty-five minutes,” she replies.
“Tell the driver to come to the garage, please,” I state, even though most of Mario’s drivers know this. If I don’t answer the front door of the house, they know to go to the garage.
I slip my phone back into my pocket, happy to have dinner taken care of for the evening and make my way out to my garage.
My eyes automatically scan next door, trying to catch a first real glimpse of the people I’ll be living next to for a while.
I’ve had a wide array of neighbors over the last couple of years, mostly younger couples.
Several of whom fought all the damn time.
When I reach the side entrance to the garage, I get a view of the back of the trailer.
What catches my attention is the small kid’s bike, along with what looks like a toddler bed.
It’s smaller than a twin frame and looks like a race car.
That makes me stop in my tracks. Through the revolving door of tenants at that house, I don’t recall any kids.
I’m not sure how I feel about that.
I don’t have anything against kids. Not in the least. In fact, I love them. My niece is a prime example, and I can’t wait for my brothers to do the same, making me an uncle a dozen times over.
Do I see that for myself in the future?
Nope.
Not anymore. The whole wife, kids, picket fence bullshit. It’s a mirage, a farce. It looks like it’s there, way off in the distance, as beautiful and as obtainable as catching a firefly, but it’s not.
It’s not real.
No, that’s not true.
It’s real. My siblings seem to have found it, and I’m incredibly happy for them. I thought I had it once myself, but that turned out to be untrue.
So instead of searching for the illusive happily ever after, I’m content just living my life.
I date, I have a good time, but I tend to walk on the casual side.
I’m not looking for forever. Not now. Maybe not ever.
Why? Because it hurts too fucking bad when it all goes south, leaving you alone and picking up the pieces of a shattered heart.
Ignoring the pull in my gut at the sight of that toddler bed, I step inside my garage and flip on the lights.
I struck gold when I found this rental. Quinn and I had been sharing an apartment, but we both needed space.
He was really getting his business going as a welder, and I craved my own spot to work on vehicles.
I’m a mechanic. It’s all I’ve ever wanted to be.
Well, except that time in second grade when I was gonna be an astronaut.
That was short-lived, however, when I realized how much schooling and flight time you’d need to even apply for the NASA program.
Turns out, it’s not as simple as just “wanting” to go to the moon.
So, I set my sights on something I had already developed a passion for.
Fixing things.
From bikes to anything mechanical, I spent my entire childhood in a garage, working on whatever it was I could find.
In high school, I was fortunate to get into the auto mechanic program at the county career center.
It was a hell of a lot better than sitting in a classroom all day, that’s for sure.
It gave me the tools and experience I craved to further my future career.
I work at Randy’s Auto Center, the bigger of the two mechanic shops in Cooper Town.
We do a little bit of everything, from auto repair, snow plowing, tow truck services, and even car washes.
I’ve worked there since I was sixteen, hired to help upkeep the grounds by taking out the trash, cleaning the car wash bays, and eventually assisting with oil changes.
From there, I moved up the ranks and have been full time with him since I graduated high school.
Just as I step over to the transmission I’m working on, my phone rings. Smiling, I tap on the screen and answer. “Miss me?” I ask my sister.
“Hardly,” she mutters, but I can hear the smile in her voice.
“You don’t have to lie. I know I’m your favorite brother.”
She snorts, and I can practically see her rolling her eyes over the phone. “Whatever.” She sobers quickly. “Listen, there’s a reason for my call.”
I stand up straight and lean against my workbench. “What’s up?”
“I just heard something,” she says quietly, very un-Charli-like.
She’s usually bold and a bit brash and says what’s on her mind.
“Jenn called me, and she hired a new stylist. She’s been trying to keep me updated on what’s happening at the salon, you know, since I’m off for a few more weeks.
Anyway, she called to chat and inform me of the addition, since the new employee will have started before I return. ”
“Okay,” I say as I walk to the side door. It’s not hot or crowded in the garage, but I’m feeling the need to move a bit freer.
She sighs. “You’re not going to believe who it is,” she whispers, and I’m not sure if it’s because her daughter is sleeping or for my benefit.
I stop in my tracks without even closing the door behind me. I stand in my driveway, waiting.
Suddenly, movement in the neighboring driveway catches my eye, and I turn.
There stands a woman, one from my past. She’s stepping out of the trailer, a tote of toys in her arms, and sees me.
Our eyes meet for the first time since the morning she left town, breaking my heart into a million pieces.
That fateful morning I watched everything I thought I knew and loved leave, taking every single hope and dream we had for our lives with her.
Realization hits with the force of a sledgehammer to the chest. It’s painful and steals the oxygen from my lungs.
As my sister tries to gingerly drop the atomic bomb on my life, I blurt out the one name I haven’t spoken since I was eighteen. Since the day she broke up with me and left town. The only woman I’ve ever loved and then lost just as quickly.
“Maren.”